


A Conversation with the Director

by sir_coriander_cadaverish



Category: Nimona (Webcomic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:21:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_coriander_cadaverish/pseuds/sir_coriander_cadaverish
Summary: I like to think that before the Director placed that weaponized lance in our favorite Blonde Boy's hands, she had been plotting for quite a while. So what better way to pit the boys against each other than to get in their heads, long before it even happened?(This was one of the first fics I've ever made.)
Relationships: Ballister Blackheart/Ambrosius Goldenloin
Kudos: 7





	A Conversation with the Director

A week after Ballister's 18th birthday, the Director called him into her office. He waited until after breakfast, then he made the trek down the cavernous hallway that connected the Boys' Quarters to the executive offices of the Institution. When he entered, the Director was sitting at her desk, waiting patiently in total silence.  
"You, um..." he said uneasily, "You called me to your office."  
"Do you know why I called you in here?" The Director's voice had its usual coolness as she stared across the office at Ballister. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.  
"No," he finally said.  
The Director continued to stare at him, the silence growing more intense with each second. Then her voice cut through the air.  
"I want you to tell me who you think is a better knight: you or Ambrosius."  
Ballister's heart instantly began to pound in his ears. He met eyes with the Director briefly.  
"What?"  
The Director stared at him, eyes like dark hunks of glass set in her head. "Tell me who you think is better."  
Ballister started to ponder this, then stopped - realizing what the Director was doing.  
"No," he said firmly.  
The Director's eyebrows raised by a millimeter. "No?"  
"Ambrosius is my best friend; I'm not gonna compare myself to him!" Ballister said, growing indignant.  
"But I'm asking you to," the Director said calmly.  
"And I'm saying that I refuse to," Ballister replied with matching calmness, crossing his arms.  
Suddenly and with alarming swiftness, the Director stood from her chair and walked across the room to Ballister, not stopping until they were barely a foot apart.  
Though a bit startled, Ballister did not back down; he jutted his chin out defiantly and stared directly into her cold, dead eyes.  
"Fine, then," she murmured, with a slight edge to her voice, "As your Director, I am _commanding_ you... to tell me who you think is better." Her eyes remained locked on his.  
Ballister gave the Director the most withering, contemptuous look that he could muster, then reluctantly took a step back and began to mentally prepare his answer.  
He must've taken too long, though, because the Director snapped, "Quickly, now."  
Flashing her another glance that could've melted steel, Ballister sighed and, finally, spoke. "I have more precision, but Ambrosius is better at speed," he said in a dead voice. "My armwork is better than his, but he has better form overall." He stopped there, looking up at the Director. She gazed at him expectantly. After a moment, Ballister continued, more hesitantly this time, "But... I'm a better strategizer, and Ambrosius runs out of stamina pretty quickly... so..." The Director interrupted, "So who do you think is better?"  
Ballister closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wishing that he had never entered the Director's office. He didn't want to think this way about someone he loved. He didn't want comparisons. He didn't want to know.  
 _But I do know,_ he thought to himself. _I know who's better. I just don't want to say it._  
"Ballister, with every moment you waste, you are threatening your position in this Institute," the Director said sharply. "I need you to answer me. Who is better?"  
Ballister glared at the ground, face burning.  
Finally, almost inaudibly, he whispered, "Me."  
But the Director wasn't satisfied. "What did you say?" she asked him, her voice never wavering.  
Slowly and resentfully, Ballister looked up at the Director.  
"I am," he said, louder this time.  
There was a pause. Neither of them spoke.  
Then the Director turned and walked smoothly back to her desk. She sat down and began tapping something into her Holodesk. Ballister stood there, watching her in silence, and feeling as if his whole body ached with guilt.  
"You may go," said the Director curtly, not looking up.  
Ballister gave a weak, mirthless laugh. "That's it?"  
The Director clicked on what looked like a spreadsheet and began typing.  
"Yas," she said. "That is all. You may go."  
Ballister gave the Director one last loathing glance, turned slowly and walked out of the office.

When he got back to the common area where Ambrosius sat drawing, it was clear that Ballister's mood had taken a grim turn.  
Ambrosius immediately looked up and saw Ballister's stony expression.  
"What happened?" Ambrosius asked softly.  
Ballister flopped heavily onto the couch next to Ambrosius and pulled out his book.  
"Nothing interesting," he lied, propping up his book so that Ambrosius could no longer read his eyes for clues. Troubled, Ambrosius leaned back into the couch and resumed his sketch.  
Had Ballister been forced to answer the same question he'd been asked a week ago?


End file.
